


I Ain't Got No Type

by EllieCee



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F, Unrequited Crush, my friend and i have been making this joke since i played origins, this is partly a joke fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-15 16:45:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11235081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieCee/pseuds/EllieCee
Summary: Cullen Rutherford only seems to have one thing in common with the women he crushes on - they like women too.or the one where Cullen crushes on a lesbian mage not once buttwice.-This is mostly a joke fic, stemmed from me being completely oblivious.





	I Ain't Got No Type

**Author's Note:**

> I played as a female Amell on my first playthrough of Origins, and when Cullen confesses everything at the Circle, everything flew over my head and I didn't realize he was lusting for my Amell. I thought he was talking about Wynne and when I told my friend she laughed at me for probably a week straight. She told me I did the opposite of queerbait Cullen. Thus this was born. 
> 
> Also a note, my Amell is very brash and intense (and also lowkey kinda really mean) which explains the thing she almost does in the story. That's probably the most serious part of this fic.

Amell is brash and forward – despite being unnaturally quiet. She hardly looked at anyone when she breezed down the halls, swiftly avoiding any body in her way. Sometimes it seemed that her footsteps made no noise.

This was why the others weren’t too fond of her, Cullen knew. Except perhaps Jowan, who Amell didn’t seem fond of herself.

Speaking of…

Cullen froze in place when he spotted her walking down his direction, eyes locked onto the door behind him. He’d felt like she was burning a hole through his armor. Jowan was behind her as always, following like a lost puppy.

“Oh, um, h-hello. I…uh…am glad to see your Harrowing went smoothly.”

Amell looked up at him, with some kind of tired and irritated look in her eyes.

“I need to go,” she said simply.

“Right,” Cullen replied, watching her brown eyes look right through him. It was agonizing.

She turned on her heel and went ahead. Jowan looked back at him before snickering.

Cullen let his body relax and lean against the stone wall once Amell was out of sight.

 

 

* * *

 

 

His body ached as much as his head. He couldn’t tell anyone what time of day it’d been, everything seemed to melt into an endless stream. He longed for some way to stop the screaming and crying echoing in the tower. He could no longer tell whether they were real or in his head. The scent of death and blood was overwhelming. He wanted to vomit but he didn’t have the energy.

When the door opened he was sure it was another apparition. But his heart leapt when he looked up and saw a familiar figure. It had to be a cruel joke.

It couldn’t be her.

The woman moved closer and knelt to his level. He eyed the splotches of dried blood on her Grey Warden uniform.

Too familiar and too real.

His chest pounded as her steely brown eyes studied him. She looked worn and ragged, strands of dark hair falling against her scarred face. She even looked older.

But still so achingly lovely.

He broke.

“This trick again? I know what you are. It won’t work. I will stay strong.”

Amell furrowed her brows.

“What won’t work?” she groaned.

He willed himself to see who it really was, who he’d hoped: the desire demon slithering in to tempt him one last time before she took his life.

But he looked up again – those dark brown eyes, the way her hair fell against her face. Even the way she smelled underneath the dried blood and sweat. It was there so faintly but he could still remember it from those times she breezed past him from what felt like so long ago.

_No, Cullen. Stay strong._

“Enough visions. If anything in you is human…kill me now and stop this game. You broke the others, but I will stay strong, for my sake…for theirs…”

Amell, or the demon, or whatever the apparition was before him met his eyes again.

“Sifting through my thoughts…tempting me with the one thing I always wanted but could never have…”

Suddenly, Amell’s face twisted into something terrible as she shifted in her place.

“Using my shame against me…my ill-advised infatuation with her…a mage, of all things.”

He heard a hiss escape Amell’s lips.

“I am so tired of these cruel jokes…these tricks…these…”

“Cullen!” she shrieked, her cry reverberating across the room. He looked up and was met with cold, angry eyes. She did not dissipate into a demon, but remained as her…as Amell, knuckles clenched.

His next word disappeared in his throat as Amell reached for the hilt of a sword behind her.

“I don’t care how long you’ve been here,” she snarled, “You _do not_ speak about me like that!”

In a flash, she charged forward with a sword as he shut his eyes tight and cowered into himself. Then, he heard a clang and slowly opened his eyes. Amell’s sword was on the floor, and Amell held back by a redheaded woman.

“It’s not worth it,” he’d heard the woman say.

Amell shot him a cold look before backing away.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He saw Amell for the very last time when she told him “I’d rather die at the hands of darkspawn before letting you convince me to kill the mages in this tower.”

It left a bloody taste in his throat.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Cullen didn’t attend the parade to see the Hero of Ferelden. In fact, he’d much fancied dying in a ditch. All he could remember was Amell’s angry eyes and the flash of her sword. He rubbed his face as he turned to his side in his bunk.

The door opened.

“Hey Cullen! You were sweet on that Amell right?”

It was Frederick, or Francis, a boisterous new recruit that Cullen thought would’ve been better fit joining the chasind.

“What of it?” he mumbled, refusing to face him.

Frederick or Francis cackled before giving him a rough pat on his shoulder.

“Cully, you never had a chance with her. Rumor has it she’d run away on some vacation with her newfound love. Some pretty redheaded thing.”

Cullen felt bile rise up his throat.

“What?” he asked, sitting up.

Frederick or Francis cackled again, revealing a row of unsavory yellow teeth and the smell of hard liquor.

“Your Amell prefers women,” he explained.

Suddenly, Cullen felt like drowning himself in Calenhad.

Pretty redheaded thing.

The redheaded woman with Amell. The one who’d walked so closely by her side.

Oh, Maker.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Life is a cruel joke, Cullen thought. After the mess in Kirkwall (where still, stories about Amell followed him including his ridiculous crush on her), when he decided to return to Ferelden, he found himself in the company of the pretty redheaded thing.

Leliana was her name.

Amell’s Leliana.

And Leliana was never shy of fawning about Amell. How soft her hair is, how sweet she is in bed. Things that made Cullen grind his teeth and wish to be elsewhere.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Then there was Lady Trevelyan.

Dark hair, dark eyes. Magic.

Horribly, terribly familiar. 

He cursed himself under his breath when he felt his heart flutter watching her practice combat. She’d insisted Cassandra taught her.

She moved quickly and effortlessly, though not with the might a warrior has. But it was as if she floated while she struck lightning from her staff to hit the target.

_Oh, Maker._

Trevelyan’s edges were softer than Amell’s. She was pleasant and easy to be fond of. Her brashness was only exhibited when needed. So it was to no wonder that Josephine, Leliana and Cassandra whispered among them that _she_ should lead the Inquisition.

But Cullen could never get more than a moment with her. He felt his hands shaking as he watched her near his mission table. It wasn’t the frosty air at Skyhold that left him trembling.

_Calm down, Cullen. She’s just going to ask you for a report. You’re no longer 19._

“Commander?”

He’d nearly knocked down a stack of paper as he turned to look at her.

“Y-yes, Inquisitor?”

She hardly noticed his stuttering.

“How are the troops?”

There was always something about the sun glinting off brown eyes. She smelled of sandalwood.

He gulped.

“Good. We got more recruits in this morning. V-very promising.”

Trevelyan opened her mouth to reply, but was quickly whisked away by Josephine.

“Sorry Cullen,” she apologized, “I must steal the Inquisitor for a minute.”

Cullen let out a deep breath.

“It’s quite all right, Lady Montilyet.”

Josephine returned a smile as she linked arms with Trevelyan and walked up to the castle.

Cullen realized that his palms had been sweating the whole time.

 

It’s not often Cullen was alone with Leliana. In fact, Cullen makes sure that it hardly happens. He hated feeling like a silly little boy hung up on the past, but sharp pangs of envy rattled through his chest whenever he saw her face.

It was much better two ales later, when the buzzing softened the pangs of envy. He sat next to Leliana at the tavern, eyes wandering around as he called for another pint.

“Never pegged you for a drinker,” Leliana teased. She’d been much chirpier since the Inquisitor had fallen into their lives. They were good friends. Trevelyan had that effect on so many people.

“Is it really that shocking?” he asked.

“A bit. You’re quite wound up,” Leliana replied, snorting.

Cullen shook his head as the sound of an opening door called their attention. It’s Trevelyan, walking in beside Josephine. Cullen felt the two pints of ales threatening to make a comeback.

“Good to see the Inquisitor convinced Josie to take a night off,” Leliana smiled. They watched as Josephine and Trevelyan made their way to sit with Sera at a corner table.

Cullen cleared his throat.

“Uh yes.”

“Josie is always so busy,” Leliana added.

Cullen’s eyes stayed locked at Trevelyan, who now was laughing heartily at something Sera had said. Cullen never understood why anyone found Sera funny, but the way Trevelyan’s eyes crinkled made his heart thump.

“Leliana?”

“Yes?”

Cullen fiddled with his gloves as he took a deep breath.

“Is the Inquisitor seeing anyone?”

Leliana met him with a blank gaze before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

Josephine had always spoken about wishing to see Leliana laugh again, but Cullen couldn’t appreciate it now. A surge of embarrassment ran through his body.

“What?” he asked, frustration balling up as Leliana attempted to control herself.

“Cullen,” she heaved, “I do not wish to think of you as oblivious, but…the Inquisitor has been flirting with Josie non-stop the moment she met her.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive me for some dialogue I took liberties with. I can't really remember what anyone said and it's hard trying to sift through videos of people who made the same choices as me lol. Most people's Wardens tend to be nice unlike mine.
> 
> Also to be fair, I really didn't like how Cullen described his crush on Amell. It was bordering on dehumanizing, like Amell was some kind of dirty, forbidden fruit.


End file.
